


The Waiting Place

by Jay_Wells



Series: The Odd Life of Alexander Hamilton [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Brains Damage, Child Abandonment, Child Neglect, Children, Concussions, Consensual Underage Sex (implied), Don't Ask Don't Tell, Dr. Suess quotes, Drinking, F/M, Family, Kissing, Lonliness, M/M, Major Character Injury, Martha is a Red Cross nurse, Mental Health Issues, Mention of Heart Attacks, Mentions of Cancer, Minor Character Death, Miscarriage, Multi, Non-Graphic Violence, Panama Invasion, Panic Attacks, Past Infidelity, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Racism, Period-Typical Underage, The Vietnam War, mention of suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-03 08:19:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6603613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jay_Wells/pseuds/Jay_Wells
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“The Waiting Place ... for people just waiting. Waiting for a train to go or a bus to come, or a plane to go or the mail to come, or the rain to go or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow or waiting around for a Yes or No or waiting for their to grow. Everyone is just waiting.”</p><p>Aaron Burr has spent a lot of time in The Waiting Place.<br/>Alexander is tired of waiting for things to get better<br/>Failure, George Washington learned, was as powerful as success.<br/>Eliza often resigned herself to the background.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Waiting Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The Waiting Place ... for people just waiting. Waiting for a train to go or a bus to come, or a plane to go or the mail to come, or the rain to go or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow or waiting around for a Yes or No or waiting for their to grow. Everyone is just waiting.”

 

Growing up in the foster system meant a lot of waiting. Waiting for a family to choose him or paperwork to be done, or a school transfer to be filed or background check to be run, or waiting for his social worker to come back for him when he inevitably had to go back. Just waiting.

He spent more time in waiting rooms than in the office with his social worker and new family, locked out of the decision that decided his future.

When he turned sixteen and was named the youngest AP Scholar at his school, he applied to Princeton. As a legacy -- and _brilliant,_ goddammit, he knew he was -- he should’ve gotten in, but he was waitlisted for his age. Another boy, Hamilton, applied for early entrance as well, and was waitlisted. He applied for Columbia, and got in. He sent an email to Burr suggesting he do the same.

 

But Burr knew if he was patient, he would get in.

 

He did, six months later.

 

At twenty he applied for an internship at a legal practice on Wall Street. They laughed when he applied eagerly, insisting that someone so young couldn’t have completed his undergraduate. Burr left, feeling their contempt hot on his back. He went back to school for his graduate, stretched his class load to the limit and was rewarded thirteen months later with his Master’s degree. He reapplied as a junior partner, and waited patiently outside their law firm every day for two weeks. He got the job. A month later he quit and started his own law firm in the same building as Alexander Hamilton.

 

He learned about Hamilton’s engagement in the paper a few years later. Elizabeth Schuyler. Burr remembered her name vaguely from water-cooler talk, but that was only a month ago, two at most. And wasn’t he dating Laurens? Burr might have found Hamilton’s preoccupation with the progeny of senators more interesting if he weren’t preoccupied with the most gorgeous woman he’d ever met -- Theodosia Prevost. She was thirty-five, beautiful, intelligent and mature. She was also married. Burr could wait, though, if it meant being with her.

 

By December he heard Hamilton was rated as the second-best lawyer in New York City, an impressive feat at the age of twenty-six.

 

Unless of course, you were the twenty-five-year-old ranked first.

 

Two years later, and Theodosia was pregnant. The hardest wait in his life was the nine months between pregnancy and birth. Worse, he wasn’t allowed in the room. The baby was his, but Theodosia was still in the middle of a messy divorce, and her husband had legal rights. Burr was envious, but he waited calmly, and went in to visit Theodosia and little Theo. He was a father now, and soon would be a husband.

 

He was thirty-one when Hamilton became Treasury Secretary. He had no desire to be in the cabinet -- he couldn’t stand Washington, and the feeling was mutual. He would wait for a better opportunity.

 

He waited, and waited, and waited, and nothing came. Hamilton sped so far past him that Burr felt lost. Theodosia was diagnosed with stomach cancer, and the chemo wasn’t working as quickly as he had hoped. Burr sat next to her in her hospital bed and waited for her to get better.

 

She did. But six years later it came back with a vengeance. The day Theodosia died, Burr prayed feverishly that he would die soon, as soon as his daughter no longer needed him. He knew that would be years, but he was willing to wait.

 

Burr was forty-seven when he heard that Hamilton had disparaged him at a dinner. An irrational fury filled him, and sent an angry email, demanding a retraction. Hamilton refused, and after a few more venomous messages, they agreed to meet.

 

Burr didn’t intend to kill Hamilton, he didn’t _mean_ to shove him over the side of the bridge. There was so much blood. He called the ambulance and went home to wait.

 

Hamilton didn’t die, but he had to get and appendicitis and his spine was shattered, just above the hips where he had hit a piece of rebar. He would never walk again. Burr waited for the police to show up.

 

They didn’t. Hamilton told no one. No one knew what he had done, or what he had almost been guilty of. He was a free man.

  
But the guilt of crippling a man he had known for more than thirty years left him trapped in the waiting place, waiting for punishment or a chance at atonement.


	2. Somehow You'll Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Somehow you'll escape all that waiting and staying. You'll find the bright places where Boom Bands are playing. With banner flip-flapping, once more you'll ride high! Ready for anything under the sky. Ready because you're that kind of a guy! 
> 
> Alexander is tired of waiting for things to get better.

Since he was ten years old Alexander waited for his father to come home. He waited while things got worse -- he dropped out of school like his brother to help at the shop despite his mother’s disapproval, he waited while she got sicker, he waited while he was disenfranchised. His mother waited for times to get better. Waiting killed her.

 

His cousin Peter waited for life to get easier, and Uncle James waited for someone to tell him his son hadn’t really commited suicide. Waiting killed them too.

 

Every adult he knew was waiting though, so maybe there was something he wasn’t seeing. So he waited too: for his father to return, for the anxiety to go away, for taunts to end. He waited for mercy.

 

The government waited to warn the town of Christiansed about the largest hurricane to date heading towards them, so when it hit all they could do was wait for it to end. Now there was no more Christiansed. As Alexander gazed at the ruined remains of his town, he vowed that he was done waiting.

 

He wrote a letter to his father and posted in the local paper. Eight weeks later he was on a plane to New York City.

 

He applied for early admission to Princeton along with a sixteen-year-old named Aaron, but was denied after a face-to-face interview, even though his application and letters of recommendation were nearly _flawless_. He stormed off with Hercules Mulligan, his sponsor, and flipped the school off as they drove away. Alexander applied to Columbia. He wrote Aaron and suggested he do the same. Aaron replied that he’d wait.

 

But Alexander knew if he was patient, he’d lose time.

 

He got into Columbia that week.

 

He attacked his studies with full vigour. Halfway through his freshman year, he took a semester off to join the army. The semester turns into two, and as he was deployed to Lebanon. There he served under General Washington, and met John, a cute pre-med student. It had to be secret, but it was more than worth it. Aaron warned him to wait for times to change. He didn’t.

 

He returned to his studies, but remained on-call for the military, and he completed his pre-law in two years. He is twenty, and applies for a internship. He didn’t get it, so he argued his case for three hours. He got it.

 

Alexander’s brother commented " _Hey"_ on his blog, and Alexander burst into tears. He’d thought his brother was dead when the hurricane destroyed their town. He hadn’t waited to find out he was alive.

 

At twenty-three, he started his own law firm. He catered to everyone, and took cases pro-bono when his clients couldn’t afford him. Aaron started a law firm next door.

 

Two years later, he met Eliza at a party. She was intelligent, beautiful and sweet, and both of them were just a little drunk. Before he could think twice, he was in love and he doesn’t wait. He kissed her in the garden, and she kissed back. It’s while he’s kissing her that he remembers John. He told her the truth. And, for a while, he’s with both of them. He never felt less lonely.

  
Within a month, he proposed to Eliza, and she squealed in delight. He told John that he wouldn’t love him any less. John said he understood, but after his son was born, John became a military doctor and moved to the American Embassy in Paris.

 

He’s rated the second best lawyer in New York City. He’s only twenty-six, and it’s impressive for someone so young.

 

Unless the person ahead of you is twenty-five.

 

Eliza had two more children, Angelica and AJ, and Washington jokingly told them to wait a while between kids. But as Alexander kissed each of his children at night, he couldn’t imagine waiting for any one of them. With them, he felt a sense of belonging and usefulness.

 

At thirty-two, two things happened to Alexander: one, he became the youngest Treasury Secretary to date; and two, he made the biggest mistake of his life. Maria came into his life, and he didn’t hesitate when she asked for his assistance. He didn’t wait, and now he hurt two women who didn’t deserve it. Eliza told him she wouldn’t divorce him if he promised to go to marriage counselling.

 

They tried to keep it from the children, but they knew, instinctively, that Mama and Papa were not alright. Angelica stopped talking to him for three months. When she sprained her wrist while riding her bike, she pointedly walked past him, holding back tears, to find Eliza. They went to the ER, and when they got back, he went into his office and cried.

 

He did not cry when his father died of a heart attack in 2008, like he thought he would. Instead, he just felt very tired and went to bed early. Later that same year, when Washington died from throat cancer, he went home early and had a panic attack. Eliza came home and found him hyperventilating.

 

At forty-two, Alexander was diagnosed with manic depression and post-traumatic stress disorder.

 

Philip, his nineteen-year-old son was shot when an older student whom he argued with brought a gun to school. His seventeen-year-old daughter, Angelica, was diagnosed with panic disorder when the shock hit her. The argument had been over something Alexander said.

 

Alexander doesn’t wait, and he doesn’t think before he speaks, and now he lived out of his suitcase while he moved between waiting rooms.

 

In the end, everyone makes it through.

 

He was forty-nine when, in an ill-thought fist-fight, Aaron shoved him off the memorial bridge. A piece of rebar strikes him between the hips as he falls. He no longer felt his legs, but the agony everywhere else was enough. He passed out and woke up in the ambulance, told the medics to call Eliza, and blacked out again.

 

He told no one what had happened. As far as they knew, he had been walking across the bridge for his morning run, and a semi-truck had sped past, and he’d lost his balance and fell over the edge. He had a history of mental illness, and had mentioned suicidal thoughts to John and Eliza before, so anyone who didn’t believe his story assumed he’d attempted suicide.

  
Alexander was left in a wheelchair, but he rolled out of the waiting room anyway.


	3. Except When You Don't

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And the magical things you can do with that ball will make you the winning-est winner of all. Fame! You'll be as famous as famous can be, with the whole wide world watching you win on TV. Except when they don't, because, sometimes they won't.
> 
> Failure, George Washington learned, was as powerful as success.

When George was eight he climbed a tree. His brother shouted for him to come back down before he fell, and he laughed, because he knew he could go a little higher. He kept climbing, even as the branches bent under his weight and doubts crept into his mind. He refused to back down. A branch broke under his foot and he fell from the very top of the tree. He hit the ground at twenty miles per hour. 

 

He didn’t die, but he would live with brain damage for the rest of his life, manifested in working memory loss and loss of “expressive” language. In other words, he could never be a journalist or a writer, but that was okay, because he liked planting in the garden with his mother, and he liked watching the flowers grow. 

 

When George was eleven, his father fought and died in the Korean War. George swore to follow his father’s footsteps. 

 

In high school, George realised that girls found him attractive, and that they didn’t mind his minor brain damage so much. This made up for a lot of the grade school teasing, he thought. 

 

The first time he kissed a girl was graduation, the day he’d signed up for the military. Sally Cary had been sitting next to him, and they started talking. It quickly devolved into flirting and then he was leading her by the hand behind the field house and he mouth was on his, and he thought he might not want to go to war after all. When he rose to leave, she coyly handed him her graduation picture. He took it with him to Cuba, stored in a little plastic baggy.

 

It went poorly in Cuba.

 

It went good the Congo.

 

He was given a command when it was time to go to Vietnam. He was just twenty-four. 

 

He made a mistake, and five of his men died, and he had to surrender to save the other four. The Vietnamese made them prisoners of war, and another of his men was killed. When he was released, he wrote the families of the dead with shame and regret. He pulled the picture of Sally Cary from senior graduation from his pocket. The photo was now old and faded, with a water stain on the bottom right corner. Sally had married George Fairfax the day he left for Cuba. He stared at the picture until a plane came to take him to a hospital, then if he passed inspection. As the chopper lowered, he took one last look at the hellish jungle that he had lived in the past three years, and set the photo on the ground. He knew not to overstep his limits by now.

 

In the hospital, he met a widowed Red Cross nurse named Martha Dandridge. She was snarky, sensible and baked the best apple pie George had ever tasted. Best of all, she listens to his private shame. He told her about the time he helped raze a village, only to find nothing but children in it. Child soldiers he had shot, not giving them a chance to surrender, because he was afraid to die. His own men, whom he led into a minefield. His vain flattery of generals to get his commision. She listened with clever eyes, and condemned him for his mistakes, praised him for his bravery. He took her dancing, and instead of taking his leave of absence in America, he married Martha and signed the adoption papers for her two children before serving a final year in Vietnam and heading home. He became a groundskeeper at Virginia University and Martha, using his name, started an inn in Charleston. George never had much a head for numbers, and she ran it better than he ever could. Jacky, his new step-son, avoided him, but Patsy liked him.

 

In 1972, on her sixth birthday, Patsy scraped her knee. She sat stunned for a moment, then burst into tears, asking for her daddy. George, heavy-hearted, approached and began to explain that her daddy was dead, when she threw her tiny arms around his neck. “Make it better, Daddy.”

 

Suddenly, George felt like the winning-est winner of them all, and he hugged her back, kissed her knee and gently applied a bandage.

 

Jacky asked to be called Jack when he turned fifteen, and despite his bright mind, he began betting on races and running with a dangerous crowd. The more his grades slipped, the more George worried, and the more they fought. Jack never got past calling him George.

 

He re-enlisted in 1978 to fight in Thailand. He was promoted to general. While he was away, Patsy was diagnosed with epilepsy. She had almost a seizure a day, and even though most of them weren’t life-threatening, watching his little girl thrash in pain made him wish he was back in Vietnam. He was helpless to save her.

 

1982 was a long, long year. Jack got engaged to his high school sweetheart, sweet, sixteen-year-old Eleanor. George insisted he put the marriage on hold until he finished college, and Jack reluctantly agreed. He sent the boy off to Columbia proudly, knowing that Jack would thank him later. He only wanted his son to do better than him. But then Patsy had her worst seizure yet. Martha was a hero, calling the doctor and following his instructions exactly. All George could do was hold her and cry. Jack came back from college for the funeral, and never went back. He joined the army.

 

He fought in Lebanon. Jack served under him alongside three other boys -- John, Gilbert and Alexander. John was a nineteen-year-old pre-med student, who joined the army because he believed in freedom. Gilbert and and Alexander both claimed to be eighteen, but Washington was uneasy. Gilbert’s birth year was listed as ‘65, which made him seventeen if he’d been born before April, but he said he was doing it as the easiest way to be granted citizenship, so George overlooked it. Alexander’s birthdate wasn’t in the system, somehow, and he dodged all of George’s probing. He didn’t look eighteen -- he barely looked thirteen, he was so scrawny and small -- but he made himself indispensable with the gift of writing. Within a month, he could understand George when words failed him, and put it eloquently. And as a bright, ambitious young Columbia student with the drive Jack lacked, George was ashamed to admit Alexander was the son George wished Jack would be. Yet, while John and Gilbert were eager for any sort of father figure, Alexander treated him with a cool indifference that went beyond Jack’s prickliness. Where Jack got angry, Alexander was offended that George wanted to be like a father. 

 

He took it all back. He’d take every time he wished for Alexander to be his son back if God would let him keep Jack.

 

The pain of losing his children was acute, if softened by years of loving memories. He raised his grandchildren and tried to learn from his mistakes as a parent.

 

Alexander invited George to his firstborn son’s Christening, muttering something about Eliza wanting to meet him.

 

After the war, his relationship with Alexander relaxed, so long as he didn’t try to force himself into Alexander’s life or try to act like his father. Alexander’s cold professionalism melts away a little.

 

George is fifty-five when he runs for president. During his term, he keeps the country out of war with great difficulty and intercepts and terrorist organisation’s plan thanks to the one time Alexander and Thomas worked together. He is happy.

 

In the last years of his presidency, it was discovered he was in the late stages of throat cancer, but that was alright with him in a way. He did what he needed to do. He proved that he could successfully lead the country despite his disability, he gave a lifetime to his country, he met and loved amazing people and lived long enough to see both the Civil Rights Movement and the torch being passed to America’s first black president. He was known as a hero. He learned that failure was a part of life, and that was alright. 

  
George wasn’t always happy, but he wouldn’t trade his life for anything else.


	4. All Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "All Alone! Whether you like it or not, alone will be something you'll be quite a lot. And when you're alone, there's a very good chance you'll meet things that scare you right out of your pants. There are some, down the road between hither and yon, that can scare you so much you won't want to go on.  
> But on you will go though the weather be foul. On you will go though your enemies prowl. On you will go though the Hakken-Kraks howl. Onward up many a frightening creek, though your arms may get sore and your sneakers may leak. On and on you will hike, And I know you'll hike far and face up to your problems whatever they are."
> 
> Eliza was often resigned to the background.

Eliza was surrounded by people all her life, but she was often left to her own devices. She was quiet and shy, and never minded when her parents paid more attention to her brothers and sisters.

 

A couple facts:

 

She minded. Very much. She wanted her parents to notice her.

 

But she didn’t want to be fussed over.

 

Most importantly, she wanted someone who understood her.

 

When Angelica and PJ started school, Eliza guiltily wondered if she would get more attention. Angelica was Momma’s favourite and PJ was Daddy’s, and when Peggy was born, she was Daddy’s little girl. Eliza didn’t understand why they ignored her, when she did her best to get their attention. Later she realised that it wasn’t their fault -- she just seemed like a happy, well-adjusted little girl who like being on her own, so they devoted their extra energies to the louder, more needy children. It wasn’t an epiphany that made her feel better.

 

Eliza had needs.

 

She had her first boyfriend in the seventh grade. The relationship ended about a month later when he tried to trade her for a matchbox car. That day she was furious. After school she skipped her student council meeting and walked straight home. The house was empty when she arrived, and she grabbed a pillow off the couch and screamed into it. When Angelica came home, she was in her room crying. 

 

Throughout high school she joined the orchestra, student council and several service clubs. She joined the DAR like her sister and rang the bell for the Salvation Army every December. She still wasn’t quite happy, and her family still forgot her against the backdrop of Peggy’s coming-out as a lesbian and Angelica eloping with a young businessman named John and her mother’s frequent pregnancy. Their house was often in a state of new-baby haze. 

 

As a college student, she studied to be a social worker and volunteered at the local women’s shelter. Eliza no longer expected to be noticed when put next to her siblings, but she had begun to find fulfillment with being the backdrop because her work gave her a sense of purpose. In 1790, she graduated in the top percent of her class and got to work at a children’s home.

 

Eliza met Alex at a party thrown by Angelica in her final semester of college. He was considerate and brave and dashing, and she found herself swept up despite herself as her inner romantic took over. She was embarrassed to admit it was helped along by the whiskey. They’d taken a walk in the garden, and he gave her his jacket when she shivered and treated her like a princess without being asked and when he kissed her she felt special. Eliza learned how good it felt to be wanted. When he told her about John, she hurriedly insisted she was alright with that. At first, she regretted her hasty assurance, but John very quickly became her best friend and she realised she didn’t mind all that much, so long as he kept sending her letters that made her feel like she was the only thing that crossed his mind. The moments of jealousy became less and less frequent.

 

Their courtship lasted only a month before marriage was brought to the table. Her parents were delighted that she was marrying Alex, who had a way of charming people into looking past his impoverished upbringing and controversial views. Things got awkward with John, though. He had known and loved Alex for years, but was prevented from marrying him by law. He insisted it was fine, but when she became pregnant with Philip, John congratulated her with a pained smile and told her he was breaking it off with Alex and leaving to study in France at the Hôtel Dieu in Paris.

 

Alex is deployed during Philip’s birth. He promised stay out of the army. 

 

He threw himself into his law career after that, and worked late. Most nights he paced the family room of their small apartment. Eliza staged an emergency intervention to save their marriage.

 

She met Dolley Madison in 1993 and became good friends. The two of them founded the Women’s Alliance of New York to provide discreet assistance to single mothers. It became the largest all-women’s organisation and lowers childhood starvation by ten percent. 

 

Her daughter Angelica was born, and Alex stayed with her in the hospital. He read to her every night before taking Philip home.

 

As each of her children is born, Eliza felt the appreciation she craved.  _ I love you, Mommy. I need you. Help me tie my shoes, Mommy. _ They gave her a sense of purpose.

 

Alex became Treasury Secretary. They relocated to D.C. He later admitted to a year-long affair, and Eliza felt the pent-up rage inside of her. She had been patient. She had been understanding. She had earned the right to be called Mrs. Hamilton, and the least he could do was treat her like his wife. Like he was hers.

Eliza became pregnant for the sixth time. It’s a girl, who they planned to name Rachel, after Alex’s mother. Then she and two-year-old Johnny are hospitalised with a lung infection. Alex took time off work, but the infection outlasted him. America was at war again, and Alex was sent to lead the troops alongside Washington, the first president to do so. Eliza got better, but there was a miscarriage. She didn’t cry when Dr. Stephens assured her that is not anyone’s fault and sometimes these things happened and there wasn’t anything to be done. Instead, she stayed numb until Alex returned, and they mourned together. Alex handed in his resignation the next month and they moved back to New York.

 

When Philip turned fifteen, he became deathly ill with E. coli. Alex came home early from his business trip to take care of him. Eliza forgave him, but she didn’t forget. 

 

Eliza came home from dropping the kids off at their uncle’s when she finds Alex hyperventilating on the bathroom floor. She gently walked him to the car and they spent their fifteenth anniversary in the ER. Alex cried when he calmed down and apologised for ruining it for her. Eliza couldn’t bring herself to mind, and she told him as much. That episode did more to bring them together than a celebration could, and they were a couple based on struggle.

 

Philip, their nineteen-year-old son was shot when an older student whom he argued with brought a gun to school. Their seventeen-year-old daughter, Angelica, is diagnosed with panic disorder when the shock hits her. The argument had been over something Alexander said. Eliza was a little bitter. If her babies were lost, she would not have forgiven him.

 

Eliza was forty-seven when she got a call from the hospital. Her husband was found in the Hudson, unconscious with severe internal bleeding, a burst kidney and suffering from spinal shock. For thirty-one hours, they were unsure if he would live. Friends and family pour in to say their goodbyes, but Alex made it.

 

She asked him what happened, and he told her he’d been ot jogging and lost his balance when a semi-truck sped by. It was unlikely, and Eliza wondered if perhaps it was a failed suicide attempt, as John was sure it was. More so, she wondered at the anonymous caller who reported his fall. A good samaritan whom she should thank for saving her husband’s life, or the one who pushed her husband? She wished he would tell her.

 

After his accident, she found herself his caretaker. It was hard, from time to time, to help the man who used to stand with pride and energy and a little bit of arrogance walk, to realise how close she had come to being a widowed mother of eight. 

 

Eliza knew she would muddle through, and she would do it with her head held high and a smile.


End file.
